


light remains light

by American_Pandora



Series: all the silhouettes you've made [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Light Smut, Lyanna as Knight of the Laughing Tree, Oberyn wins a joust, didnt you squidward?, letter writing, the literal lightest, you thought I forgot about Ellaria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/American_Pandora/pseuds/American_Pandora
Summary: You are so much more than a pretty face, Ellaria Sand, he wished he could say,and I will spend the rest of my life showing you how.But he didn't, because he couldn't, bound by vows as he was, vows he had taken before he had ever met her.Lewyn, Ellaria & their life in theall the silhouettes you've madeuniverse





	1. in which a Dornish lady lacks hedonism; or, the first meeting (280AC The Red Keep)

**Author's Note:**

> "Love is love, even if it is illicit; like light remains light even in the darkness." Munia Khan

She is part of Elia's ladies, most definitely the lowest on the totem pole, but one would never know it based on the way Elia and Ashara smile at and treat her, like an equal.

The same cannot be said for everyone else.

He wonders, again, how his niece talked him into attending her 'ladies party.' Something about using connections to gain credibility and prestige with the ladies of the court. 

And knowing two members of the Kingsguard personally would do that, Elia had all but begged, especially if he and Arthur dropped by when they were off duty as though it was a regular thing they did. 

Lewyn is just trying to figure out how to gracefully make an exit without hurting Elia's already fragile social standing when the mostly ignored Dornish girl sidles up next to him. "Parties in King's Landing are so terribly _tame_ compared to the ones in Dorne." 

He smiled at her, then couldn't help but stare. She was radiant- not solely because of her looks, though she was as gorgeous a girl as he'd seen outside of Dorne in many years, but the way she carried herself, poised, confident, like a night leopard along the Bone Mountains. 

"I'm afraid they only get more boring, my lady." He admitted, mind running with a way to keep the girl's interest. 

"Hmmm." She gave a noncommittal hum. "I miss the hedonism. King's Landing is certainly lacking for it." 

Lewyn felt something in his throat- in his gut- _lower_ twist and tug at her words. 

"Do you know what the best part about being a bastard is, currently? Everyone thinks I'm a terrible person, but because I'm in favor with the future queen, they can't outright shun me. So they put me in a chamber in my own lonely hallway, a floor below everyone else." 

The girl suddenly was in front of him, blocking the view of him from the room. The Kingsguard in him wanted to push her aside; the man in him was very, very curious as to what she was up to. 

"Ser, would you like to accompany me to my lonely, lonely chambers, and see if we can find a cure for this lack of hedonism in our lovely Capitol?" She's bent over at such an angle to give a delicious glimpse of her firm cleavage. 

Then, as if he needed convincing further- she glances around to make sure no one is watching them- and with a single touch, strokes his length to full hardness and lets her palm graze the whole of him. 

Lewyn thanks every god he didn't wear his armor to this.

A large amount of air escapes his nose. He's lucky he didn't moan out like he wanted to. 

_It's been so long since someone touched him that wasn't paid to..._

The girl has somehow managed to snag two wineskins of Dornish Sour, and she looks at him expectantly. 

"Yes," he croaks, before clearing his voice in hopes of not sounding like a green boy any longer, "Yes. Where do I find you?" 

"Go down the ivory railed stair case, walk past the bust of Good Queen Alysanne and turn left at the half-burnt tapestry of Daeron the First trying to invade Dorne. I'm the last door on the right, there's a portrait of Prince Duncan and Jenny of Oldstones right before my room." Her mouth puckers up queerly and all Lewyn wants is to kiss the wine stains off of her lips. 

Lewyn nods, barely trusting his voice. "And who should I ask for, when I knock upon the last door on the right."

Her mouth curves in a way that once again reminds him of a cat. 

"Ellaria." She says huskily. "Ellaria Sand."


	2. In which Varys is the most unsubtle man in King's Landing (281AC, The Red Keep)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ah," Varys says entirely too peppily for a man who fell through a secret door and then down an extra two feet.

He came to her that night after four days of being away, of guarding Aerys and his paranoia. He must sleep in the White Sword Tower most nights- even the half nights he spends away are apparently too much, if the way old Barristen looks at him is any indication, but he can't quit her. Ellaria is like Dorne if Dorne were a goddess.

Whispers have caught aflame at court that he's got a paramour. Those whispers have been buzzing around him since he first joined the Kingsguard- and around Arthur too, he knows, it's only because they're _Dornish_. 

The difference this time is that they're true, and Lewyn is nervous. Every glance at him fills him with paranoia, as does every glance he catches someone throwing Ellaria. 

It didn't help that the other day Varys had approached him, told of a new tunnel within the walls he'd discovered, and asked if he might search it with the Maester of Whispers on his day off. 

What excuse could he give? ' _No thank you, Lord Varys, Master of Whispers, I'd much rather spend the day making love to the most beautiful woman at court than running around the Red Keep in a sketchy tunnel?_ ' 

A smart man with a secret does not say no to another man whose sole purpose is to discover secrets.

That was how Lewyn found himself in a tunnel that ran from the undercroft of the White Sword tower, entering through an extremely well hidden trap door, to the Great Hall and Traitor's Walk down to the bowels of the Red Keep. At one point Varys had plead a break (the man had been jumping in fright of rats and spiderwebs near the entire time) and leaned against a portion of the wall, hand on a rusty old torch hold. 

And fallen through the wall- a secret door, most specifically. 

Lewyn darted out to help the man, caught like a turtle on its shell, and nearly froze in hauling Varys as he's halfway up. 

They were right outside Ellaria's room. The portrait of Duncan and Jenny is a door. 

"Ah," Varys says entirely too peppily for a man who fell through a secret door and then down an extra two feet, "the danger of letting one's guard down... while exploring secret tunnels, of course. I do wonder how it opens, though..." the bald Master of Whispers questioned. After a moment's notice, he cried out. "Aha! There's a notch in the side of the frame that at first glance once thinks a shadow. Ser Lewyn, look!" Varys cried out, with all the excitement of a child. 

Lewyn was sluggish in his reaction, and he hoped his pretend excitement was passable enough. Varys then insisted on each of them opening the door each way, before he was satisfied and they could get on their way. 

That night, as Lewyn lay in his small bunk thinking on the tunnel (and trying very hard not to think on the secret door and where it was located), an alarming set of realizations came to him. 

Lewyn was a head taller than Varys and just as broad (if not a finger or two thicker) as him at the shoulders. For all the man shrieked of spider webs, Lewyn hadn't run into a single one. He'd not stepped on a rat, either, and his feet were definitely bigger than the eunuch's. There wasn't any dust or cobwebs on the torch that opened the portrait. In fact, the tunnel was remarkably clean the whole way through. 

It seemed, almost, well traveled. 

Varys' last remark to Lewyn, before they'd departed after backtracking to the Great Hall from the end of the tunnel in the basements, nearly causes him to lurch up in his bed. ' _Maybe you can use this... should you ever need to get to the king, of course... unseen_.'

_Varys knows_ , he realizes. _He knows who Ellaria is and where she is_. 

Though he does not think he's a threat to her, it's still hard for him to fall asleep with the cold water of fear sloshing around in his chest.

* * *

He finds her on the floor in in front of her trunk, packed and ready to go to Harrenhal with Elia and Rhaegar on the morrow. 

Lewyn wonders if she knows of the foolishness that Rhaegar is planning- has been planning, in truth, for a very long time, if Ellaria knows that this isn't just a Tourney but a meeting of lords- before shaking the thought off. She can't know, Lewyn isn't even sure _Elia_ knows. 

"Love, what is wrong?" He picks his lover up off of the floor, on to the downy yellow and red comforter. She doesn't say anything, just curls up like a child, and Lewyn's heart starts to race. 

"Ellaria, has someone hurt you? Ellaria!" Something in his tone breaks through to her, for her eyes- as gold as Dornish sand, as gold as all the sun motifs in Sunspear - meet his and she shakes her head frantically. 

"No," she whispers, her voice quiet as a mouse, so unlike the Ellaria he knows, "No one's hurt me." 

"Then what is wrong?" 

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

It took half the night to puzzle all the pieces together, for her to explain that sometimes it's weaker than normal, that sometimes moon tea just doesn't work.

"I won't claim it as yours." The anger must have showed on his face, for some fire returned to Ellaria's eyes as she defended her reasoning. "You're a Kingsguard! I know how they talk about you and Ser Arthur at court, just because you're Dornish! I will not be a source of defamation for you! I will not see you punished by the King!" 

_Aerys_. "The King." Lewyn breathed out quietly, as though even thinking his name would cause him to appear outside their door. "Ellaria, you must leave. You must leave the castle and not come back. The King is mad, madder than anyone suspects. If he were to find out..." He lets the words trail off. 

Eyes wide in fear, Ellaria nods, mouth set in grim determination. "I'll ride back with my father's delegation from the Tourney." 

Lewyn kisses the furrow between her brow, and there are no words for awhile. 

He doesn't go back to the White Sword Tower that night. Arthur will cover for him if there's a need, he knows, and by the time his brothers awaken at first light, he will be in their meeting room, sharpening his sword. 

He will sleep better by Ellaria's side, even though he does not sleep but instead whispers fervid promises into her belly, to the babe, that she watches with glossy eyes. 

( _He waits until she's asleep to apologize to the babe, for putting it and its mother in this position_.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lewyn Martell having a paramour is canon


	3. in which Oberyn Martell has a very busy day and Lewyn Martell is not as sneaky as he thinks (281AC, The Tourney of Harrenhal, Harrenhal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They resumed their previous cuddling position, with her head on his chest, when Ellaria says quietly, "I already knew, you know."

They had to ride far before they were truly alone. Lewyn couldn't count how many squires and knights they'd ridden upon, bent over whores, but it was truly too many for both his and Oberyn's hands (and possibly feet). 

"You did well, nephew, to win in the tourney. I thought you disliked jousting, though." 

Oberyn shrugged, grinning and looking like the cat that got the cream. 

"Although, I do wonder why you crowned the Stark girl the queen of love and beauty and not your sister. I would have thought that her betrothal to Lord Baratheon was well known as even far down as Dorne." 

Oberyn laughs that laugh that has always reminded him of Obella's. The aunt that died before his nephew could know her- Obella had been the middle child, but more like Oberyn than Elia. Quick to anger, quick to love. Dead before her time as too many were, as hopefully his nephew wouldn't be. 

"Oh, she knows why I crowned her." Oberyn smirks, then looks around, making sure no one has gotten close enough to hear, "She was the mystery knight! I came across her trying to get rid of that ill-fitting armor once she heard Mad King Scab was looking for her. Helped her throw it in the river, it was shoddy work, anyway. Though it was her brilliant idea to plant the shield in the godswood." 

Lewyn listened to his nephew prattle on about the girl, his concern growing. The Red Viper of Dorne did not usually talk about women in such a way, unless it was Elia. "Oberyn, you do remember that she's betrothed, right?" 

His nephew's face grew oddly dark. "Yes. Even if he does not deserve her." 

They came to a large meadow then, and both men set their horses to cantering. 

_Obella used to say there wasn't any problem that couldn't be outran on a horse_...

"Oberyn, I'm afraid I need your help." 

Oberyn threw a glance toward his uncle as they walked their horses. "Does it have anything to do with that little minx's tent I saw you slip into at House Uller's campgrounds last night?" 

"What were you doing there?" Lewyn asks, heart starting to race, instead of asking _how many other people saw_ like he should or saying _her name is Ellaria and she is mine_ like he wants to.

"No one, I'd wager. I'd just finished escorting Ly... a lovely lady back to her tent when I saw you enter the lovely Lady Ellaria's tent. I have to walk through the Uller grounds to get to my tent, and I wouldn't have known it was you if I hadn't noticed your sword sheath and broach."

Sometimes Lewyn forgets that it isn't just Doran that was cunning, smart, observant. After all, it was Oberyn who had forged half a Maester's chain at the Citadel before deciding a Maester's life wasn't for him.

"The Lady Ellaria... She's one of your sister's ladies. And she and I may have... we may have become familiar with one another. Lady Ellaria, she's truly wonderful, if Dorne were a woman, it would be her..." Lewyn trails off for a moment, the weight of his white cloak on his shoulders as heavy as any stone could ever be. He doesn't catch the queer look Oberyn throws at him before continuing. "Anyway, Ellaria is very special to me.... Oberyn, Ellaria is pregnant with my child. I need you to take her back to Dorne with you and keep her and the child safe. She thinks to head back to her Father's home, but the child is a Martell. It should be born in Sunspear, or The Water Gardens." 

When Lewyn looks at his nephew, he expects to see pity, like Elia and Ashara had shown when they'd found out, or anger, like Arthur had shown. Instead he sees a sort of resignation, a sadness, an anger.

"Do you mean for me to claim the child as my own? It'd be believable. I already have four, after all, why not one more?" Oberyn asks, and Lewyn's heart hurts. 

_My nephew thinks I mean to make a scapegoat of him_.

"No. The child is _mine_. I ask you, because I know you can be trusted to keep an eye on the two most precious things to me. I'll acknowledge the child once Rhaegar is on the throne and take whatever punishment comes with it. I don't know what Aerys would do, to the babe or Ellaria or me. You don't have to ever speak to Ellaria once she's at the Water Gardens or in Sunspear, but please, nephew, just get her there." Lewyn feels tears forming at the corners of his eyes and blinks them away, slightly unmanned. He hasn't cried since Loreza's death, and Obella's before that.

Oberyn's face has softens, and there's a something in his eyes that reminds Lewyn of his mother Dorea when he answers. "Of course I will protect her with my life, Uncle Lewyn. I can tell how important she is to you." 

They ride in companionable silence nearly the whole ride back. It's nearly dark by the time they arrive back, and Oberyn stops his horse atop a hill before they reach the first ring of campfires belonging to the hedge knights and the lowest houses of landed knights, late to arrive to the tourney. 

"You really love her, don't you, Uncle?" 

Something like a large gust of wind blew in Lewyn's chest. Love her? _Yes_ , he realized, _I do love her_.

"Yes." Lewyn stated simply, without pomp or reasoning. Oberyn would require none. 

And he didn't. Instead he just nodded his head and quieted his mouth into what could be misconstrued as a bittersweet smile. "I knew you did." 

"How?" 

Oberyn smiled a real smile now, one of his blinding ones that got anyone he wanted into his bed. "You compared her to Dorne. And besides Doran, Elia, Rhaenys and I, there is nothing in this world you love so much as Dorne." 

With that profound observation, Oberyn clicked to his horse and they raced down the hill, into the camps, nearly knocking over a maid as she carried a bucket of waste to be disposed of. 

Lewyn sat on his horse on the hill, watching his reckless nephew race through people until his eye could follow him no more. 

The setting sun seemed to change the color of his cloak from white to orange. 

_For as hard as you try, you're still a Martell, still too Dornish, never Kingsguard enough_ , a nasty voice in his head that sounded like Aerys whispered.

* * *

"Ellaria?" 

"Yes?" Her lips murmured into the light feathering of hair on his chest. 

"I... I want you to know I'm not telling you this just so you won't be mad at me, alright? It was actually the reason I came over here." 

"Besides to tell me you made plans to send me with your nephew without consulting me first? You had a reason besides that? Color me intrigued." She propped herself up on her elbow, and it took all of Lewyn's power not to bring his mouth or eyes to her breasts. 

He took a deep breath and rolled onto his side so he was facing her, propped his head and took her free hand with his own. "It wasn't until Oberyn asked me, today, that I came to this realization, and I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to you for not coming to this conclusion on my own." Lewyn Martell took a deep breath and braided his fingers between hers. "Ellaria Sand, I love you." 

The woman he loved let out a rich and husky laugh. "I love you too, Lewyn Martell." 

They resumed their previous cuddling position, with her head on his chest, when Ellaria says quietly, "I already knew, you know."

"Huh?" He asked, drifting between the land of wake and sleep. 

"I knew that you loved me when you didn't make me get rid of the baby, when you told me you'd take care of me. Men like you don't besmirch what others see as honor for just anything, just any pretty face." 

_You are so much more than a pretty face, Ellaria Sand_ , he wished he could say, _and I will spend the rest of my life showing you how_. 

But he didn't, because he couldn't, bound by vows as he was, vows he had taken before he had ever met her.

Instead he kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. 

She understood.


	4. in which the fast friends Ser Lewyn & Lady Ellaria exchange letters of court life; or, nothing to see here, folks. (282AC-284AC)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THERE ARE REFERENCES TO A BATTLE AND A MISCARRIAGE IN THIS CHAPTER
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _ **letters written like this are the pretend letters exchanged between Lewyn & Ellaria**_  
>  
> 
> _letters written like this are the coded letters written by Ellaria_
> 
>  
> 
> **letters written like this are the coded letters written by Lewyn to Ellaria**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> also, I have very little knowledge of child development, so just go with it.

**282AC**

_**Dear Ser Lewyn,** _

_**I have named my son Daemon; for all that my father presses me (and assumes it to be your nephew), I will not name the father of my child.** _

_**I hope court treats you as well as The Water Gardens are treating me. Please, congratulate the Princess Elia on the birth of a healthy son, and an heir for Westeros.** _

_**Your friend,  
Lady Ellaria Sand** _

* * *

_My love,_

_Our son has been born, healthy and howling. I wish you could hold him; he's a big babe and will like be as tall as you. It's good to know I was as big as a house for a reason._

_Daemon seems to have your jawline, my cheekbones, my nose, and your black Martell eyes. The Lady Lyanna and Oberyn have been great helps throughout this pregnancy; Lyanna just confirmed to me that she, herself, is expecting, and she feels sort of like a squire to me, getting ready for motherhood/ knighthood. Ha! There is no preparation._

_Give Elia and little Rhaenys and Aegon my love. What you do not give to them- keep for yourself. With love, Ellaria & Daemon_

* * *

**283AC**

_**Dear Ser Lewyn,** _

_**Our mutual friend Ashara has given birth to a baby girl, hale and hearty with eyes like a violet dawn. She is named Allyria, after Ashara's own grandmother.** _

_**Lady Dayne refuses to name the Father, but Lord Allard Dayne has legitimized her natural daughter anyway. I have heard rumor that the Lady Esmay has trouble carrying a child, and so this girl is, for now, heir to Starfall.** _

_**Faithfully,  
Lady Ellaria Sand** _

* * *

_Lewyn, My Love, The father of Ashara's child is Brandon Stark. The runaway groom of Winterfell apparently stopped at Starfall on his way to wherever it is he was going. Ashara begged me not to tell anyone- I agreed. But you are not just anyone, you are the other half of my soul, and so I do not think it counts. I do not think Lyanna knows about her brother's natural child, though I would bet Oberyn does and Ashara is holding him to a similar promise. Daemon is doing well- he is holding himself up on his own, babbling all the time and crawling everywhere. Lyanna approached me the other day, eyes abnormally serious, and asked if he were Oberyn's son. 'No,' I told her, 'He is not Oberyn's. He is a son of a sun, though.' I do not think I threw her off for long. At least she is kind- she watches Daemon when I need a moment to myself. She will be a good mother to that babe of hers, just like I know you will be a great father to Daemon when you meet him. Stay safe. All Our Love, Ellaria & Daemon_. 

* * *

_**Ser Lewyn,  
Please extend my sincerest congratulations to Prince Rhaegar and his bride Ashara. Should they ever need anything, I am but a raven away. ** _

_**Please also inform the Princess Elia of this fact. As always, please pass my love on to little Rhaenys and Aegon- who, I'm sure, are not so little any more.** _

_**With many wishes of happiness for the new couple,  
Lady Ellaria Sand ** _

* * *

_Love,_

_I must say I admire Ashara for leaving her daughter behind._

_It's for the best, truly- she will face whispers, as everyone knows already she's birthed a bastard- but it is for the babe I would fear, any retributions or punishments by certain royals simply for existing._

_Lord and Lady Dayne have offered to raise the child until she can be sent to her mother. That seems unnecessarily cruel to me- why not just let Allard and Esmay claim her as their own and raise her? All know of Esmay's struggles, to conceive, to birth a living child._

_But yet, I understand where Ashara comes from. I couldn't bear it, I don't think, if Doran claimed Daemon and took him away from me._

_It is one of my nightmares, actually- someone coming and taking our boy from me. It's become such a bother that your nephew is teaching me about poisons, so I might ease my paranoid mind. (I may just be a student of convenience as well, though, for I believe he plans on teaching his children one day and is practicing on me now.)_

_Our son is as robust as ever, if cranky, for his teeth are cutting and he is decidedly unhappy about it._

_Love from a paranoid woman and a cranky toddler,  
Ellaria and Daemon_

* * *

_**Ser Lewyn,** _

_**May I offer my sincerest congratulations to you on the birth of your first great nephew.** _

_**Your nephew and his bride have named the boy Jon Nymeros Martell. He has all the Stark look, I am told, except perhaps for Oberyn's nose (before it was broken multiple times, of course) and the black hair with blue shine that oft runs in your family. (Lyanna says her family has mostly dark brown/ brown-black hair.)** _

_**Jon is an exceptionally cute babe and has the entirety of the household wrapped around his little baby finger, his sisters especially.** _

_**Congratulations once more,  
Lady Ellaria Sand** _

* * *

_Dearest,_

_Daemon said his first word today. It was 'Ma' and I cried for an hour afterwards. Because my boy is growing up, because you weren't there to hear his sweet baby lisp, because I am afraid to teach him the word 'Da' and have him think I speak of Oberyn. I've already started calling Lyanna 'Aunt Lya' and I do refer to Oberyn as 'Uncle Obie,' as much as that annoys him. Jon is decidedly simpler. Then we have Bara, Nym, Tene and 'Rella. (Oberyn has bet his next word will be his name. Both Lyanna and I have bet on it being Jon, as Daemon is all sorts of fascinated with his second cousin.)_

_Arianne shall be Ari, and Quentyn will be either Quen or Tyn, I have a feeling. (Lyanna says I ought to put my services out as a nurse, as I apparently speak baby far too well. I told her she may as well make me hers, everyone already thinks I'm her husband's whore, she may as well put me to good use and give the world something to talk about.)_

_I hope I am able to see you soon- every night, my bed feels wider without you in it, and every day, the chasm in my heart widens._

_Love, Ellaria._

* * *

**284**

_**Ser Lewyn,  
Please tell me what I'm hearing isn't true. Please tell me Princess Ashara and the babe she carried weren't nearly burned at the stake in an attempt to bring back dragons. Please tell me she and the babe are okay. ** _

_Lady Ellaria_

* * *

_My love,  
Please tell me you, along with Ashara, are alright. All our love, Ellaria  & Daemon_

* * *

**Ellaria,  
Please pardon the haste in which this letter is written. I just received your raven before we are to set out to The Water Gardens- The Queen Mother Rhaella has expressed a wish for a change of scenery (her exact words involved many unladylike phrases I never thought to hear coming out of my lady liege's mouth). My nephew Doran has apparently already dispatched one of his personal ships. I know not why we go to Dorne instead of Dragonstone, but I will not complain. I am coming to you, my love. I am coming to my son. I must go, but know I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you- Lewyn Nymeros Martell.**

**P.S. The Mad King is dead. Long live King Rhaegar Targaryen, the First of His Name.**

* * *

**Ellaria, my Dearest Love,**

**I write to you from Oldtown, where the Hightowers seem intent on monopolizing the Queen and forcing her to give birth here.  
I forgot to mention it in my hasty letter as our retinue prepared to escort the Queen Mother to Dorne, and no doubt you have heard the rumors if not the report from Lord and Lady Dayne. **

**Princess Ashara (despite her right to use the title of Queen, Ashara maintains the title of Princess, insisting Elia is the true Queen of Westeros and as a nod to her Dornish heritage) was burned by Aerys- at least, that is what his attempt was.**

**In front of all seven of the Kingsguard and an overly full court of nobles, he had her stripped and tied by Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Ilyn Payne. I don't know how quickly they managed it, but a stake was built and burning. A dragon egg lay beneath her feet, as if on a dais.**

**Rhaegar ran forward and so did Elia. I barely had time to react; I made eye contact with every one of my brothers and, with a yes on everyone's lips, we converged.**

**All I could think as I strode toward the Iron Throne was we cannot have another Summerhall.**

**Aerys was screeching on his throne about betrayers and trial by fire. Selmy, Hightower and Darry were engaged in battle with Gregor Clegane, the Mountain That Rides. We were all surprised when his burned brother joined in- against him. Grunted something out about Gregor being "the fucker that gave him the burns."**

**I was unable to watch, as I was engaged in battle with Ser Ilyn Payne, mute headsman of the King. And he wasn't trying. He tapped the side of his helmet, pointed to the broad side of the sword, and made a small swinging motion. Payne wanted to sit this one out; he wanted me to help him retain his honor.**

**I may have hit a bit harder than necessary.**

**Aerys started screaming about wildfire caches, a phrase to make any sane man's blood run cold, and it seemed to mean something to the pyromancers. They immediately ran for it- Jaime Lannister, Jonothor Darry and a few knightly members of court pursued them.**

**I looked over at Ashara, quickly. Arthur was sawing at the ropes with Dawn; Elia and Rhaegar and Barristan were trying to stamp out the flames. Ashara screamed, Aerys cackled, high and inhuman.**

**I saw blood running down Ashara's leg, already blistering from the burns. It trickled, Targaryen red, down until it landed on the egg. One perfect drop.**

**Everything went black after that. The next thing I was aware of, Grand Maester Pycelle was administering treatment to me, for a few broken rips and a deep cut on my hip, as well as treating me for a twisted knee.**

**Apparently I had challenged Aerys and sounded just as raving of a loon as he did. How could a man in that condition, with such nails, hold a sword?**

**He didn't even try. He giggled, _like a child_ and ran up the steps to the Iron Throne. **

**The Iron Throne, which apparently has a storage compartment under the seat.**

**A storage compartment that Aerys had filled with jars of wildfire.**

**He grabbed a jar in his hands and cackled. It was at this point that Ser Barristan, having slain The Mountain that Rides (Ser Gerold perished in the fight) with help from Ser Sandor Clegane (who refuses to be officially knighted) noticed Ser Jaime Lannister creeping up the back of the throne steps.**

**Aerys never noticed- and when he reached his arms over his head to throw the jar (presumably at me, I can recall nothing except what returns in pieces in my dreams) Jaime put him in a chokehold and threw them both down the stairs, sliding on his back the whole way.**

**I can only imagine that everyone held their breathe, but Aerys never let go of the volatile substance, and Jaime never let up on his chokehold.**

**Aerys' arms start to droop as his face turned purple, and I did the single dumbest thing I've ever done in my life.**

**I took the wildfire out of his hands, ran up and placed it on the throne.**

**Aerys was detained, and Rhaegar declared himself Prince Regent until the Great Council could look into the matter.**

**It became a moot point when Aerys was found dead not a week later.**

**(The court looks at Jamie and calls him Kingslayer, believing him guilty for a hogwash of reasons. I have heard the Kingsguard referred to as the Kingmakers; I crave normalcy, and I feel that's the reason Elia insisted I accompany Queen Rhaella. Normalcy, and you.)**

**As I'm sure you inferred, Ashara's babe did not make it. Her burns, while not terrible, cover most of her legs. She was unable to walk, last I saw. She may appreciate a letter from you soon.**

**Dowager Queen Rhaella intends to leave within the next two days. I have known this woman a long while, and no one, Hightower or not, shall stand in the way of her destination. She has stayed this long only out of guilt, I think. She was passing fond of Gerold and appreciates his sacrifice more than anyone is like to believe. But our Queen is done being bullied, being manipulated, into complacency.**

**(No one shall stand in way of my destination. You, Dorne, Daemon are so close it is almost killing me.)  
** **All my love,  
**Ser Lewyn Nymeros Martell** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that Daemon Sand is not Ellaria's child- or Lewyn's, far as we can tell- but I'm gonna go ahead and use my creative license.


End file.
